Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Mysterious Wooden House

Thomas sat for a while, unable to move under the pressure.He finally forced himself to look at the dilapidated house.A group of children paced up and down outside, staring anxiously at the upstairs windows, as if expecting a hideous beast to leap from the shattered glass and wood. A metallic tap in the branches overhead caught his attention, and he looked up.A silver and red light caught his eye and disappeared on the other side of the trunk.He struggled to get up, walked to the other side of the tree, and craned his neck to find the sound he had just heard, but all he saw were bare gray and brown branches sticking out like living fingers and bones.

"That's the blade beetle," someone said. Thomas turned his head to the right and saw a boy standing not far away, looking at him.He was short and stout, and very young—perhaps the smallest of the crowd I had seen so far, about twelve or thirteen years old.His brown hair fell over his ears and neck and touched his shoulders, and his blue eyes gleamed in a somewhat delicate face with plump, flushed cheeks. Thomas nodded at him. "What beetle?" "Blade beetles," the boy said, pointing to the treetops, "it won't hurt you unless you're stupid enough to touch them." He paused. "Shank." He looked annoyed at the last word So naturally, it seems that the dialect of the glade has not been fully mastered.

There was another scream, this one longer and more nerve-wracking, piercing the air and making Thomas's heart skip a beat.The dread that came over him was like dew on his skin. "What's going on over there?" he asked, pointing to the house. "Don't know," answered the chubby boy, still with the high-pitched childlike note in his voice, "there's Ben, sicker than a dog. They got him." "They?" Thomas didn't like the hate in the boy's voice when he said the word. "yes." "Who are they?" "You'd better never understand," the boy replied, clearly anxious about the situation, holding out a hand. "My name is Chuck. Before you showed up, I was a rookie."

This is my guide for tonight?Thomas thought.He couldn't get rid of the extreme anxiety in his heart, and now he was a little more angry.It was all so inexplicable that his head was about to explode. "Why does everyone call me a rookie?" he asked, shaking Chuck's hand quickly, then letting go. "Because you're the newest rookie." Chuck pointed at Thomas and laughed.Then there was another scream in the house, like a hungry animal being abused. "How can you still laugh?" Thomas asked, terrified by the screaming. "It sounds like someone is dying over there."

"He'll be fine, he'll just be in a lot of pain. As long as they come back in time and get the serum, no one will die. There's only existence and non-existence, life and death." This sentence made Thomas pause: "How can you suffer a lot?" Chuck's eyes wandered, as if he didn't know what to say. "Uh, I was stung by a Griever." "Goblin?" Thomas was getting more and more confused.Sting, Griever.Those words weighed down with unbearable dread, and he suddenly wasn't so sure he wanted to know what Chuck was talking about. Chuck shrugged, his eyes rolled, and looked away.

Thomas sighed in disappointment and leaned against the tree. "You don't seem to know much more than I do," he said, though he knew it wasn't true.His amnesia is too weird, he can still remember how the world works, but he is missing details, faces, and names of people, like a book that has never been read, but one word is lost every dozen words, so that Reading becomes painful and confusing, and he doesn't even know his age. "Chuck, how old do you think... I am?" The boy looked him up and down. "I said sixteen. In case you're wondering, five foot nine...brown hair. Oh, and ugly as hell." He chuckled.

Thomas was so taken aback that he barely heard what was going on behind him.sixteen years old?He is sixteen?He felt much older than that. "Are you serious?" He paused, looking for the right words, "How..." He didn't even know how to say it. "Don't worry, you're going to be overwhelmed for the next few days, but then you get used to the place, which I am. We live here, it's as simple as that, and it's better than a bunch of Clunkerys. He glanced at Thomas, perhaps anticipating his question, "Kroenke is synonymous with poo, it makes a 'kroenke' sound when it goes down the toilet."

Thomas glanced at Chuck, unable to believe that he would say such a thing.He couldn't say anything other than "That's good."He got up and walked away from Chuck toward the old house, for which the word shack was more appropriate.It's about three or four stories high, and it could collapse at any moment—a mix of logs, planks, and hemp rope, the windows seem to be put together at random, and a large vine-covered stone wall soars into the sky behind the house.He walked across the courtyard, his stomach rumbling at the distinct smell of burning wood and cooking some kind of meat.Knowing now that the yelling just now was just a sick child made Thomas feel better, until he thought about the reason for all this...

"Your name?" Chuck asked behind him, trotting up. "what?" "Your name? You haven't told us - I know you remember this." "Thomas." His voice was so low he could barely hear him—his thoughts had flown in another direction.If Chuck was right, he'd just discovered some kind of connection with the other boys.What they have in common - amnesia.They all remember their names.Why not their parents' names?Why isn't there any friend's name?Why is there no last name for them? "Nice to meet you, Thomas," Chuck said. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you. I've been here a full month and I know this place like the back of my hand. You can count on Chuck, okay?"

Thomas was about to reach the front door of the cabin where the boys gathered when a sudden rage took hold of him.He turned back to Chuck. "You haven't told me anything, I don't think that's taking care of me." He turned his head and walked towards the door, intending to go in and see what happened.Even he himself didn't know where this sudden courage and determination came from. Chuck shrugged. "What I'm going to say won't do you any good," he said, "and I'm basically a noob. But I can be your friend—" "I don't need friends," Thomas cut him off.

He walked to the door, a wooden panel that had faded from the weather.He opened the door and saw several boys with expressionless faces standing under a section of deformed stairs. The steps and railings were twisted in various directions and angles. Dark wallpaper covered the hall and corridors.The only decorations visible to the eye were a dusty vase on a three-legged table, and a black and white portrait of an ancient woman in an old-fashioned white dress.It reminded Thomas of a haunted house in the movie, and some of the wooden floors were missing from the ground. The place smelled of dust and mustiness—a great contrast to the pleasant smell outside, with fluorescent lights flickering on the roof.It hadn't occurred to him yet, what was puzzling, was where the electricity would come from in a place like the glade.He looked at the old woman in the portrait. Did she ever live here and take care of these people? "Hey, look, rookie," an older boy called.Startled, Thomas realized that it was the dark-haired boy who had just stared at him with deathly eyes.He was about fifteen years old, tall and thin.The nose was the size of a small fist, like a misshapen potato. "This Shank probably heard old Ben screaming like a girl and freaked out. Need a diaper change, useless face?" "My name is Thomas." He had to get rid of this guy.He walked toward the stairs without saying a word—just because they were so close, just because he didn't know what to do, what to say.However, this guy raised a hand in front of him. "Wait a minute, rookie," he rushed upstairs and gave a thumbs up. "Newcomers are not allowed to meet...captives. Newt and Alby won't allow such a thing." "What's your problem?" Thomas asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice, not thinking about what the kid meant by "get caught." "I don't even know where I am, I just want to help." "Listen, rookie," the boy frowned and crossed his arms, "I've seen you before. There's something suspicious about your presence here, and I'll find out." A heat throbbed in Thomas' veins. "I grew up never seeing you, I don't know who you are, and I don't care." He spat.Seriously, how did he know?How could the child remember him? The big man let out a short laugh, punctuated by phlegmatic gasps.He then became serious, his eyebrows arched inward. "I've... seen you, Shank. Not many people in this place can say they've been stung," he pointed up the stairs. "I can. I know how Ben feels. I've been through it, and I'm in you' I saw you when I was in pain." He reached out and poked Thomas in the chest. "I'll bet you on your first meal that Ben says he's seen you too." Thomas met his eyes, but decided not to say a word.Once again the panic surged, could things get any worse than this? "Did the Griever make you pee your pants?" the boy said mockingly. "Are you a little scared now? You want to get stung too, don't you?" The same word appeared again.The sting, Thomas tried not to think about it, and pointed upstairs, where the sick child's groans echoed through the house. "If Newt is up there, I want to talk to him." The boy didn't speak, just stared at Thomas for several seconds, then shook his head. "You know what? You're right, Tommy, I shouldn't be mean to a rookie. Go upstairs, I'm sure, and Alby and Newt will make it clear to you. Seriously, go ahead, I'm sorry. " He tapped Thomas on the shoulder, stepped back, and pointed to the stairs.But Thomas knew the kid must be up to something, partial memory loss didn't make a person an idiot. "What's your name?" Thomas asked, stalling for time while he wondered if he should go upstairs. "Gary, don't let anyone lie to you. I'm the real leader here. It's not the two boys upstairs, it's me. If you want, you can call me Captain Gary." He smiled for the first time, mouth Ri's teeth matched his ugly nose.Two or three teeth were missing, and none were even close to white.Gary exhales just enough time for Thomas to inhale, and it brings back a terrible memory that is far away, causing his stomach to churn. "Okay," he said, his annoyance with the guy making him want to scream and punch him in the face, "then Captain Gary." He made a dramatic salute, feeling the adrenaline rush through his body It's surging, and he knows he's done a little too much. There were snickers from the crowd, and Gary looked around, flushing.He glared at Thomas, his brow furrowed, his misshapen nose wrinkled. "Go upstairs," Gary said. "Get out of my way, you dumbass." He pointed upstairs again, but kept his eyes on Thomas. "Okay." Thomas looked around again, embarrassed, confused, and angry.He felt blood rushing to his face.Nobody came up to stop him from doing what Gary said, except Chuck, who was standing by the front door, shaking his head. "You shouldn't have done that," said the little boy. "You're a rookie, you can't go up there." "Go ahead," Gary sneered, "go up." Thomas regretted walking into this place, but he did want to talk to Newt. He strode up the stairs, which creaked under his weight with each step.Had it not been for such an embarrassing situation, he might have stopped for fear of falling off the old log.All the way up, every cracking sound made him frown.Above the stairs is a landing, turned to the left, leading to a railed corridor leading to several rooms.There was only a gleam of light peeking through the crack under one door. "Changing!" Gary yelled downstairs, "We'll see, you stinky face!" As if the mockery had suddenly given Thomas courage, he walked to the lighted door and ignored the creaking wooden floorboards and the laughter from downstairs, the distraction of words that he couldn't understand, Suppress the horrible feelings they bring.He reached out, turned the brass handle, and opened the door. In the room, Newt and Alby were squatting next to a person lying on a bed. Thomas leaned forward to see what was going on.However, when he saw the patient's condition clearly, his heart felt a chill, and he had to hold back the bile welling up in his throat. The glance was brief—just a few seconds, but enough that he would never forget it.A twisted, pale face contorted in agony, a horribly bare chest.Sick green blood vessels criss-crossed on the boy's body and limbs, and the tight lines were clearly visible, like ropes under the skin.The boy had purple bruises, a red rash, and bloody scratches all over his body.His protruding eyes were bloodshot and rolled back and forth.This scene has been deeply seared into Thomas's heart.That's when Alby jumped up, blocking his view, but he couldn't stop the groans and screams.He pushed Thomas out of the room, slamming the door behind him. "What are you doing up here, rookie?" Alby yelled, lips tight with rage, eyes ablaze. Thomas felt powerless. "I...uh...need answers," he murmured, but there was no force in his tone—he felt himself giving in.What happened to that kid?Thomas leaned against the railing of the hallway, staring at the floor, not knowing what to do. "Get off me, now," Alby ordered, "Chuck will help you. If I see you again before tomorrow morning, I promise you won't live another day. I'll throw you off the cliff with my own hands ,do you understand?" Thomas was ashamed and scared, he felt as if he had shrunk into a tiny mouse.Without saying a word, he pushed Alby away and walked down the old stairs as fast as he could.Ignoring the gaping people and their stares at the bottom of the stairs—especially Gary—he walked out the door and took Chuck's arm. Thomas hated these people, everyone except Chuck. "Keep me away from those people," Thomas said.He felt that Chuck might be the only friend he had in the world. "You get it now," Chuck replied, his voice a little shrill and agitated, "but first we gotta get you something to eat at Frypan's." "I don't know if I can still eat." After what he had witnessed just now. Chuck nodded. "Yeah, you will. I'll meet you at that tree earlier, in ten minutes." Thomas wished he could get out of the house and walk back to the tree.He'd only just learned what life was like here, and already wanted it all to end.He would give anything to remind himself of his old life, anything, his mom, dad, a friend, his school, a hobby, a girl. He blinked a few times, trying to make himself forget what he saw in the hut. Pain change, Gehry called it pain change. It wasn't cold, but Thomas shivered again.